


Playlists

by ungracefulfalling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Music, Sam being awesome, actually i don't think it can be considered angst, i dont know what this is, idk i hope the orange likes this, ipod fic, with a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1948920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ungracefulfalling/pseuds/ungracefulfalling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly Sam stopped, pulling the mp3 away from Cas’ eyes and instead staring at the screen in bewilderment. He scrolled down and down, starting to blush, Cas still extremely confused about what Sam was looking at. All of a sudden, Sam let out a laugh so loud, Cas had to take a step back. Once he started laughing he couldn’t stop, holding a hand on his stomach while tears formed in his eyes. “Oh my <i>god</i>,” he panted, trying to get his breathing back to normal, and shoving the mp3 into Cas’ hands.<br/>With a bit of newfound understanding of how the device worked, Cas scrolled down the playlist that Sam was laughing at, trying to make sense of it. The name of the playlist was on the left of the screen, titled <i>NOT About Cas</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playlists

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off of my lovely friend Citra's [art](http://castihalo.tumblr.com/post/91306806175/what-the-fuck-sammy-what-are-you-sammy-give-it)
> 
> -I'm sorry this took me so long to write I am the biggest procrastinator on the planet!  
> -But yes this is not proof read or beta'd or revised so if you find a mistake please tell me!  
> -Feedback is always appreciated !!
> 
> Hey hey hey you should check out Citra's [blog](http://castihalo.tumblr.com)

            Castiel had taken a liking to bacon when he had fallen.

            After he had spent his only money on a water bottle, leaving his coat behind, he spent most of his time walking up and down highways, waiting for someone to give him a lift. On one particular ride, the tall woman driving the van had looked him over curiously and slipped a 20-dollar bill into his pocket as he exited the car. Cas had never gotten the chance to thank the woman, for he had found the dollar bill a few hours later. He had held the money in his hands like a precious infant, walking a few miles until he found a 24-hour diner. The place had looked run-down and frankly disgusting, but the ex-angel hadn’t eaten anything but garbage up to that point, and he was going to take whatever he could get.

            He had sat down at a small booth, looking over the menu curiously, even though he had no idea what was supposed to taste good or not. When the waitress had come to take his order, Castiel had quietly replied, “I’ll have anything…as long as the bill doesn’t go over 20 dollars.” The waitress had shot him a sympathetic smile, taken his menu, and left. A few minutes later, she had returned with a small plate of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Castiel had eaten most of it too quickly to even register the taste, but he savored the bacon, loving the taste and the texture…and the smell.

            So when he poked his head around the doorway of the small kitchen in the bunker, the smell of bacon instantly registered in his nostrils. Dean was hunched over a small skillet, which was perched on top of the stove. He was humming a song Castiel didn’t recognize and moving his hips to a beat that Cas could only slightly hear. A large headset of some kind sat on top of Dean’s head, enveloping each of his ears. Cas smiled at the sight, although he was confused as to why he couldn’t hear the music clearly. He had to hold in a laugh when Dean attempted some kind of spin, grey robe twirling in a circle, before he was focused on the pan again. Castiel walked down the hallway, waiting until he was out of earshot of the kitchen to let out the laugh he had been holding in.

            The bacon Dean had cooked turned out to taste just as good as it had smelled. Dean stared as he watched his friend devour his plate, placing his own fork down a few times to laugh and say, “Cas, man, slow down!”

            Cas finished his breakfast first, but sat at the table after he was done, waiting for Sam to give him the overview of the day’s work. The three of them had been going on smaller hunts, most recently a vengeful spirit haunting a kid’s playground next to an elementary school.

            “We have to do some more research on the land. It could have been some kind of burial ground before the playground equipment was put down. Cas can come to the library to start researching with me, and Dean, you head upstairs and grab a few more books,” Sam said as finished his coffee and got out of his chair. Cas nodded and followed Sam into the library while Dean dropped the plates in the sink and headed for the stairs.

            Dean met them in the library a few minutes later, dropping the pile of books onto a nearby table. Sam eyed the chair next to him expectantly and glared at Dean when the older Winchester merely stood there, hands in his pockets.

            “You gonna sit down and help us out, Dean?” Sam asked, sounding annoyed. “Or-“

            “Sam, you know I’ve got laundry to do…and the bunker’s a mess,” Dean challenged.

            Sam scoffed. “Of course! Because coincidentally, the bunker needs cleaning every single time we’re doing research.” He tried to shoot Dean a glare, but Dean had already fled the room, turning the corner in the direction of the laundry room. Sam groaned, grabbing a book of the table and beginning to flip through it.

            “You are literally a _housewife_!”

 

*

 

            The next 2 hours dragged on slowly, Sam hunched over one particular book, making notes on a pad of paper. Cas sat on one of the sofas, legs curled under himself as he aimlessly flipped through a stack of books, determining whether or not they would be useful.

            After the second hour passed, Sam complained of a hand cramp and sat back from the books, mumbling about a five-minute break. Cas slid a bookmark into the page he was reading, grateful for the break, as he stretched out on the sofa. Sam was grumbling a minute later, as he looked to the stack of books on his right.

            “Y’know, this would be a lot easier if we had 3 sets of hands.I bet there’s not even any laundry to be done! Just typical Dean.” Sam sounded more amused than genuinely angry and Cas was honestly a little confused.

            “I can go see what he’s up to,” Cas proposed. “Make sure he’s not just avoiding research.”

            Sam looked up at him and shrugged. “Go for it.”

            Cas stood up off the sofa and walked towards the door. As he was about to leave he heard Sam call, “If you find him and he’s _not_ cleaning, kick his ass for me.” Cas smiled and walked towards Dean’s bedroom.

            When Cas knocked on the closed door of the bedroom and got no response, he turned the knob carefully and peeked inside. The room was unoccupied, so Cas closed the door again and headed towards the laundry room.

            He heard Dean before he actually saw him, humming an unknown song, similar, but not the same as the one he had been humming while making breakfast. Cas heard the music faintly again too, and it only got louder as Dean’s footsteps approached. Cas saw him then, clad in only a black t-shirt and boxers, carrying a large basket of clothing towards the washing machine. He had the same peculiar headset on as when he was cooking, Cas noted. On top of the basket of clothes sat a small pink rectangle, which seemed to be connected to the headset Dean was wearing. Was it a cell phone of some sort? A radio? Cas let himself stare for a few more moments, watching Dean drop clothes into the washing machine as he hummed and sang a bit quietly.

            Cas returned to the library ten minutes later, reporting to Sam that Dean was in fact doing laundry, and not avoiding research for no reason. Sam shrugged and returned to what he was writing while Cas sat down in the same spot on the sofa again, opening up the closest book.

 

*

 

            After another hour of research, Sam decided that his notes were complete and now he merely needed to look for patterns. He remarked that Cas was looking tired and that he should probably get some sleep if they were going to be hunting the spirit tomorrow. Cas shrugged but took the advice, agreeing that he needed a nap, even if he only got scattered minutes of sleep, frequently awoken by nightmares.

            At about 6 pm, Cas reported back to the library. Sam was looking over his notes again while Dean was asleep on the couch. The peculiar headset was back, perched over his ears as he slept. The pink rectangle rested on his chest, his fingers holding it in a loose grip. Although Dean was asleep and not humming, Cas could still hear music coming from somewhere. Frustrated and confused, Cas picked up the pink rectangle and held it to his ear. “Hello?” he questioned into the device, despite its lack of a microphone.

            Sam looked up from his notes, and when he saw the device in Cas’ hands, he shook his head and laughed. “It’s not a phone, Cas. That’s not how it works,” he said between chuckles. Cas took the device away from his ear, feeling foolish. “Oh.”

            Sam took the rectangle out of Cas’ hands and turned it towards his own face. “Let me show you how it works.”

            Cas nodded and watched as Sam played with the device himself for a little bit. “It’s an mp3 device, see? You can hold your music on it and then listen to it through some headphones.” He pointed to the headset on Dean’s head and Cas nodded in understanding.

            Sam held the screen out for Cas to see. “You just scroll like this and-“

            Suddenly Sam stopped, pulling the mp3 away from Cas’ eyes and instead staring at the screen in bewilderment. He scrolled down and down, starting to blush, Cas still extremely confused about what Sam was looking at. All of a sudden, Sam let out a laugh so loud, Cas had to take a step back. Once he started laughing he couldn’t stop, holding a hand on his stomach while tears formed in his eyes. “Oh-my- _god,_ ” he panted, trying to get his breathing back to normal, and shoving the mp3 into Cas’ hands.

            With a bit of newfound understanding of how the device worked, Cas scrolled down the playlist that Sam was laughing at, trying to make sense of it. The name of the playlist was on the left of the screen, titled _NOT About Cas_. Cas was confused by the name but scrolled through the song titles anyway: _Blue Eyes; I’ve Fallen for You; Wing Beneath My Wings; Our Longing Looks Are Platonic_. Cas was confused by most of them but soon came to the conclusion that despite the title of the playlist, the songs _were_ , in fact, about himself. Cas quickly shoved the device back into Sam’s hands.

            Sam’s laughing episode was pretty loud, and Cas watched as Dean suddenly stirred and brought a hand to his stomach, probably looking for the mp3, which was now in Sam’s hands. Dean turned around to look at Sam. “What the fuck Sammy what are you-,” and he paused. Looking from Sam’s red and tear stained face to Cas’ confused expression; he finally understood what was going on.

            Dean pulled off the headset quickly, glaring at his younger brother before lunging at him. “SAMMY GIVE IT BACK TO ME RIGHT NOW OR I _SWEAR-_ “ He was cut off by more of Sam’s laughter as the younger Winchester dodged the lunge.

            “What’s the matter Dean?” Sam asked with mock concern. “Don’t you have _Your_ _Guardian Angel_ to keep your things safe for you?” He could barely get the words out without laughing, but to Cas, Dean seemed effected by the words enough. A blush crept up his neck and into his cheeks, turning his face a bright shade of pink.

            Sam laughed again when Dean didn’t reply. “Dude, you are _so_ in denial.”

            “Just _give it back_ okay,” Dean said, finally ripping the mp3 out of Sam’s hands.

            Sam was wiping his eyes of tears when Dean got up and stomped out of the library, walking down the hall and closing the door to his room with a slam. Sam was still trying to calm down a few minutes later when Cas decided to ask Sam what was going on.

            Sam stared at him in confusion. “Didn’t you read the playlist?”

            Cas scratched the back of his neck. “Yes…but I-I still don’t understand. The title said it _wasn’t_ about me but the song titles seemed to indicate that it _was_ about me…and I’m confused to why Dean has the playlist at all.”

            Sam sighed, seeming sympathetic. “I think this is a conversation you and Dean have to have. Without me. But maybe try looking up some of the song titles and giving them a listen, if you remember them.”

 

            *

 

            Cas spent the next hour and a half caught up in music and lyrics and deeper meanings.

            He also spent the hour and a half after that figuring out how to deal with the fact that Dean was completely and utterly in love with him.

            And the fact that Cas might be a little in love with him too.

 

            *

 

            It had been 3 hours, and Dean was still closed up in his room. Cas had spent an hour trying to figure out what he could say, what he could do; but in the end all Cas did was knock on the door.

            Dean opened it a little forcefully. The altercation had happened hours ago but his cheeks were still tinted a bit pink, and the blush only deepened when he saw who was on the other side of the door.

            “Cas, go away,” he mumbled, as he tried to shut the door on him.

            Cas was ready for it though, and stuck his foot in between the door and the floor, keeping it open and walking into the room. Dean groaned.

            “Cas honestly, about before, it doesn’t-“

            “I don’t think our longing looks are very platonic.”

            Dean recoiled in confusion. “What?”

            Cas coughed, trying not to blush, even though Dean was blushing enough for the both of them. “I said; I don’t think our longing looks are very platonic. Just so you know.”

            Dean stared open mouthed for a few minutes before smiling wide and mischievously.

            “I don’t think so either.”

 

*

 

            There wasn’t any more music for the day.

            Except of course, for Sam, who stole Dean’s headphones a little later in order to drown out some _other_ noises.


End file.
